August for August
by shellalana
Summary: This is my personal 31-day challenge to write a ficlet each day for August in the month of August.
1. In the Dark

The air was becoming stifling as August felt Sasha shift against him on the bed. This was the third time this month that Hollow Point had lost power, usually through the interference of the rakk roosting in the cave ceilings and chewing through wires and conduits that got in their way. It wouldn't be such a big deal if it wasn't the hottest month of the year. There was little to do around Hollow Point otherwise, and going outside was a risk in and of itself with the skags in heat.

Plus staying inside meant he could chase off anyone who was interested in robbing the place.

"You wanna drink?" she muffled, and shifted once more. The agitation of damp clothing against skin was becoming increasingly unpleasant with each movement, and August wasn't sure how much longer he could take it.

Not that he wouldn't mind getting a little more naked to pass the time.

"If there's anything cold enough," he mumbled back, and peeled his arm off her side so that she could get up. It was dark, but his eyes managed to adjust enough so that he could see her faint silhouette padding across the room to the useless fridge. A puddle had already grown underneath it, and he heard her hiss in discomfort as her toes splashed in it.

"What's taking you so long?" Bottles and cans bounced against each other as he listened to her searching around in the dead appliance.

"I can't figure out what any of these drinks are."

"Does it matter? Just grab anything." August grunted as he peeled his shirt off and tossed it aimlessly over his shoulder. It was getting worse by the minute and he didn't want to sour it any further with his bad mood. He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling, just as dark as the rest of the room around them, and dwelled on all the ways they could avoid this problem in the future. That was a big undertaking, and he didn't even own Hollow's Point. He was just a bartender with his fingers in a few pots and the hope that they wouldn't be cut off in the process.

He felt the bed shift and heard it grown as Sasha's weight settled against him again. Her hand found his shoulder, and she traced it up to his face to get a sense of his position.

"As you requested." There was a playfulness to her voice as she gently lay the chill bottle against his chest, unable to find his hand in the blanket of darkness they dwelled under. August gasped in both delight and surprise at the sudden change in temperature, and groped the neck of the bottle to find the cork.

"You just had to grab the rakk ale, of all things..." he teased as he rolled onto his side, the bottle dangling from his fingers. He could tell fromt he shape of the bottle exactly what it was. The liquid splashed about as he swung it back and forth, staring into the nothingness of where he thought her face should be. He wiped away at the light condensation the bottle had left behind on his chest.

"If you don't like it, why do you even keep it?"

August could easily imagine the judgmental look on her face - that quirk of a smile, the tug of one eyebrow, that ever-present dimple on her cheek - and pressed the side of the bottle to her neck. His guess and aim proved to be true, and the surprised gasp that came out of her brought a smile to his face.

"Gotta keep my collection filled, don't I?" Her movement told him she was making a grab, and he managed to pull it out of reach before she could. With the lights out, this little game of his was going to be easy to win.

"It's not like you show it off to anyone." Another grab, and her fingers scraped against his cheek. He quickly pinned her hand to the bed with an elbow, and the cold bottle found her side. Her response was much more exuberant, due to the sensitive spot he chose, the fact he was delighting in this, or both.

"'s still something I can be proud of. I don't gotta show off everything to everybody."

Another grab and she managed to catch his wrist. But without her other arm, she had no leverage to wrestle the "weapon" away from him. He managed to switch it up and get the hold on her instead, leaving her open for the bottle of ale to find the small of her back. Sasha swore and struggled to get him off, and August chuckled at her display, metaphorically speaking. But soon she gave up her fight, and relaxed beneath him. The drink had warmed up slightly to a more accpetable temperature, and felt like heaven against her heated skin. A contented sigh escaped her, and August decided to oblige her, assisting in her relief.

"You like that, huh..." He adjusted himself so that he sat lower on her legs, her shirt pushed up to her shoulders to expose the rest of her back to him. Sasha replied lazily with a half-hearted hum, her skin flinching with each new area the bottle explored. "Dunno why we didn't think of this sooner."

They took turns with the various drink containers that remained, cooling each new body part in turn until they shivered internally. Shed clothes made it easier and more difficult at the same time, unable to see where each other started and ended. It didn't matter for very long once their limbs were tangled together and they made a new heat of their own. It would have been intolerable if not for the foggy passionate haze they found themselves in. Sheets cast aside, they were enveloped in each other's heat until it all came to a crashing end, bodies covered in a fresh sheen of sweat that was a little more tolerable than their earlier predicament.

Breathless and panting, they lay on opposite sides of the bed, their hands meeting somewhere in the middle.

"... well that was a fun way to pass the time..."

And to add icing to the proverbial cake, the lights overhead flickered on, and there was a general hum of electricity flooding the building once more. The AC unit flickered into overdrive and blasted the room with so much cold air that neither of them was prepared for. It was a temporary relief, however, as the power being back on meant that the people of Hollow Point would be milling about again.

"We should get back to work..." Sasha sounded a little disappointed, her hand slipping from his grasp as she escaped fromt he damp mattress beneath her to search for her clothes. August remained, watching. Stuck between the need to get back to running his bar and cursing it all to the wind so that they could spend more time here, pretending as if the world outside didn't exist. That yearning was almost enough for him to wish for another blackout, but he knew these moments were never meant to last. Responsibility was a difficult thing to ignore.


	2. Locked

His fists were rubbed raw, tiny splinters stuck into his soft pink skin. His knuckles ached and throbbed, and blisters were starting to form. August sat back on his haunches in the corner of the dark closet and did his best not to cry.

He'd become quite familiar with this place. The dark hovel of a closet that his mother sent him into whenever he did something she disapproved of. Which was a lot, by his count. In his younger years, he'd blame himself for drawing her ire and swore he would never do it again. But as the years passed, he grew to learn that there wasn't much he could do to make her happy, that she would continue to be dissatisfied with whatever he did or what means he chose to complete his tasks. Nothing he did would ever be good enough for her, it seemed.

He rubbed at the sore spot on the back of his head where she'd clapped him for miscounting her change. For locking him in here, he'd accidentally sat on her shades and broken them, as well as mouthed off to a man she'd been trying to make a deal with. His early stages of puberty and rebellion weren't getting him any brownie points with her.

August wiped his cheeks with the collar of his shirt and closed his eyes, his knees hugged to his chest. After coming to terms that he would be under her boot heel a year ago, he knew he couldn't stay here. He had to come up with a plan to get away and live his life, to find some way of being happy that didn't involve being her lapdog. But leaving meant money, and he was barely afforded any allowance as things were already. Saving up would take decades, and he didn't even want to think about stealing from his own mother. That would earn him a lot more than being locked in a closet.

On closing his eyes, however, he could go anywhere he wanted. He dreamt of Eden-6 and its almost-utopian society. Athenas and its temple, the warrior maidens blessing the people and sparring with each other. Artemis and its majestic landscapes and hunting festivals. So many planets he'd heard of through the EchoNET on his little portable radio, places that could only reside in his imagination and dreams.

His fist slammed against the door in renewed determination, and he stood to his feet. The time for crying and sniffling over his bruises were gone. He was set on getting out of here by any means necessary.

The lock on the other side rattled in response, and he gave the door a shake to figure out exactly where it was. Then he braced his back against the wall of the shallow closet, raised his leg, and kicked. He put all of his energy into the heel of his boot, and drove it again and again into the same spot. The lock violently bounced off the wood each time, and he could hear something splintering in response. Damn his mother being upset, damn whatever punishment she sought afterwards, he was never going to be confined to the dark and small vestibule ever again.

On his twelfth kick, the lock finally gave and flew across the room, turning end over end across the floor. The broken door casually swung open, and he squinted against the sudden light that poured in. He held his breath and waited.

He expected to hear a yell or a scream... but there was nothing.

He didn't dare move as he listened for his mother to approach... but there was nothing.

Some thrown object to chastise him for breaking the door... but there was nothing.

The tension eked out of him as he stepped out of his once-prison and looked around at his would-be home. There was no one around, no one that could have released him had something gone unexpectedly wrong.

His mother had abandoned him here to the nothing, assuming he would be just fine.

He didn't know where to laugh with relief or cry for the fact that he'd been left alone. That he could have starved in that closet and she wouldn't have cared. Or someone could have broken into the house and stolen him away. Or worse. And Vallory wouldn't give a single damn. She'd probably even be elated that she no longer had such a burden on her hands.

But a child of twelve couldn't just leave. He was locked into this life, until he could afford to take bigger risks on getting the cash he needed, until he could step out from under her shadow and make his own way in the world without her say-so. He couldn't do it alone either, but there were very few, if any, people that he could trust. For they all worked for Vallory, and they had no allegiance to some kid. He was going to have to look for people who didn't know her and figure out just how reliable they could be.

But first, he was going to have to fix that door before she got home...


	3. Dream

_It was hot. Unbearably hot. My shirt was sticking to my body and I wanted nothing more than to rip it off and throw it away. The quiet voice in the back of my mind told me my mother wouldn't approve, and that I should suck it up. But the longer it remained, the itchier my skin became, the fabric sticking to the agitated spots to make it even worse. I condemned myself to another swat on the arm as I pulled my shirt over my head and felt the sweet relief of the passing breezes bathing my heated skin._

 _Relief was quickly replaced with dread, but a peek over my shoulder revealed that I was still in the clear._

 _I made a makeshift headscarf out of my shirt to keep the sun off my neck, and sprinted towards the sounds of lapping waves. There, I discovered a rocky beach, one that felt familiar and not at the same time, as if I should remember this place. But none of it was familiar to me. I didn't question it, however, and focused on getting my shoes off so that I could feel the cooling waters against my toes. The smoothed round rocks weren't easy to run across and ached my feet, but I hadn't a care in the world for the pain. There were worst pains I'd already experienced. They were just a price to pay for the fun I was about to have, for the small slice of freedom I'd found for myself before I'd have to head back to my world of orders, corporal punishment, and illegal activities._

 _I felt darting tickles against my ankles and I spotted a few fish, no longer than my finger, swimming around, disturbed by this sudden giant in their territory and ruining their day's plans. I thought better of trying to step on them and let them be. There was no reason for them to suffer the whims of a bored child._

 _I sat in the knee-high waters, shorts and all, and felt the push and pull of the waves around me in their rhythmic patterns that left me contented. So easy it was to forget that this kind of world existed, where there were no deals to be made and no enemies to impress. Just Nature and its apathetic attitude to everyone and anything within its domain. I was definitely going to have to come back here again instead of sulking in my room or chucking rocks at passing Runners._

 _Something bumped against my ankle, and my curiousity tugged me out of my contentment. There rolled about a glass bottle, muddied and chipped, like it had been through a lot to get here, and the wooden stopper in the neck was covered in a thin layer of green algae of some kind. I pulled it from the waves to get a closer look, the fish again retreating from my prodding fingers. Colourful swirls filled the interior, and I was sure there were stars in there too, twinkling in and out of the sunlight as I turned the bottle end over end. My first guess was some kind of foreign alcohol, but I didn't dare open it for a taste. It was still remarkable to look at, even without my curiousity satiated._

 _There was a pleasant hum coming from it too, and I pressed my ear to the container to hear more clearly. There was no song, just a constant note that seemed to vibrate through the bottle itself. I started to feel it_ _ **in**_ _my ear, then my fingers, and the note started to spread throughout my body until_ _I was one with it. Until there was no_ _ **me**_ _left._

 _Lost lost lost LOST lost._ Lost.

 _Defiler._

 _Betrayer._

 _Did you know that_ _ **Did you know**_ Did you.

 _What have you done?_

 _Touch her_

 _ **Leave me alone**_

You're just another assh-

 _Bring her back_

August don't

 **Come back**

save us

 _The bottle rolled down my chest and sat in my lap, having slipped from my fingers in my daze. The voices... so many of them. I couldn't tell who they belonged to or if they'd come from within me. Terror. Fear. Confusion. There were too many emotions for me to make sense of, too many for me to put a name to, but none of the made me feel..._

whole

 _The single word rang out like a bell and vibrated everything around it. The ocean rippled and the clouds shook from the very syllable. I pressed my hands to my ears to keep it away, but it was already within me, shaking every molecule of my body until they sought to be torn apart. I stared down into the water, willing my legs to move, and found the tiny fish gathered around me. Their tiny mouths tickled at my exposed legs, only they throbbed with so many colours, the light patterns on their backs intensifying and darkening until it looked like they were covered in several dozen eyes, all staring up at me. I wanted to scream, to bat them away, but nothing of my body would respond to my brain. Reconnecting felt impossible, and I prayed that someone, somewhere, would hear my screams and come to rescue me._

August sat upright in his bed, covered in sweat. His throat was raw from the screaming he'd been doing in his sleep, and the sheets were a damp tangled mess around his legs. Confused eyes wandered about his room, trying to make sense of where he was.

The beach was just a memory. Or a false one. He still couldn't be sure. The waves had felt so real, too. And the bottle... He swung his feet over the edge of the bed and stormed into the bathroom, throwing handfuls of icy water onto his face to chase away the memory of the dream before they could take root. He didn't want to remember, didn't want to decipher the meaning of any of it. His reflection in the mirror, however, looked unfamiliar, a little ashen. And he was in desperate need of a shave. He toweled his face dry, and grumbled the dark circles under his eyes.

"Keep it together, August. You got that deal in two days, then it's home free from there on out..."


	4. Blacked Out

It was the happiest August ever felt, as he counted up the money in his hands. Two-hundred and fifty credits. It was enough to finally get what he'd been wanting for so long, and now it was within his grasp. An entire year and a half of saving up, hiding cash away in a shoe box under the floorboards so that his mother wouldn't find it. He wanted to scream the news to the entire world he was so excited, but got the feeling no one would share his enthusiasm.

He hopped into his dune buggy and revved the engine. The small vehicle he'd built from scrap had served him well enough so far, save for the occasional engine replacement and changing out the wheels. It was the only thing he could be proud of to call his own. The tyres kicked up plumes of sand behind it as it sped off over the blanched-gold dunes, the little engine screaming with the annoyed whine of a thousand angry mosquitoes. Herds of skags were littered about, hiding in the shades of the rock columns and cliffs, and only raised their heads at the sound of the buggy as it drew nearer. They were too lazy to care, and the tiny thing would barely serve as a meal to their numbers. Not that they could really catch the damn thing in the first place.

As he sped over a particularly large dune - August wanted to jump it, see how much air time he could get - the first hints of the settlement came into view. The roofs of the scattered huts were littered with neon signs, and a few white trails of smoke eked out from their chimneys. This was the place he'd heard about on the EchoNET. This would be his baptism into becoming a man.

Excitement poured through him and tensed his hands around the steering wheel. Images filled his mind on what it was going to be like. Was it going to hurt? Would there be blood? Should he tip them afterwards? He only had enough for the payment itself, and was suddenly worried he'd piss them off by not offering a gratuity.

Maybe if he went with a cheaper choice, he could use the rest as a tip. He wanted them to know that they'd done a good job in the end, even if his mother hadn't raised him that way.

He swallowed back on his doubt as he parked his buggy near the rest of the Runners, and hopped out. Despite the small number of buildings, there were plenty of people milling about, some here for business, others just with their friends to drink the rest of the day away. He felt the air change around him too as he wondered through the town in search of what he was looking for. He tried not to let it get to him, their questioning stares on what a kid was doing here, and squared back his shoulders to reinforce his self-confidence. This was going to make him cool, and he didn't care what anyone thought otherwise.

August smiled when he found what he was looking for, and bounded up the steps through the swinging doors. Loud metal music played inside, and he walked right up to the woman behind the register. She had heavy dark makeup around her eyes and several piercings in her ears and nostrils that seemed to glow in the ultraviolet lights overhead. She gave him a look of disgust and smacked her gum.

"Whaddya want, kid? We don't got go-carts here."

As she leaned onto the counter, August swore he saw nipple piercings through her shirt. He averted his eyes upwards to avoid staring.

"I'm here to get my nose pierced." He pulled the wad of cash out of his pocket, quickly thumbed through it, and slapped it down on the counter. She stared down at it in surprise, but counted it herself before holding up the folded bills.

"You got more than enough here. Wanna pick out what you want? Might even get change back." She smacked her gum again, but she was taking him seriously this time. She moved further down the counter and pulled out a few trays of jewelry for him to look through. A normal light flicked on overhead so that he could see them clearly.

The studs looked intringuing, but they were either covered in stones or had curlycue designs he wasn't interested in. The rings were an easier choice, with varying thicknesses and some of them even covered in spikes. Those would be a little badass, but probably more than he could afford.

He'd been contemplating for the better part of five minutes, when black-polished fingers retrieve a simple ring of blue from a tray.

"You go with this one, you'll get forty bucks back in your pocket afterwards. Plus it's the same colour as your eyes." She smiled back at him with a wink, and August found it difficult to ignore the warming of his cheeks. He could only help the lighting in here was too dark for her to see the blush that covered them.

"C'mon, let's take a look." She under the counter again and retrieved a mirror. With tweezers in hand, she positioned the ring against his nostril in various spots until he found one he was happy with.

"Right there." He gently grasped her wrist, and that renewed his blush. He tried to play it off by turning his head to get a better look and focusing on what it looked like.

"Good choice. If you'll come in the back, I'll talk you through the process and we can have you out in no time."

"W-wait, you're piercing me?" August swallowed hard and stepped back. "Isn't this place called Stabflank's piercings?" She definitely didn't look like a "Stabflank."

"Yeah? That was my dad's name," she replied with a twirl of her wrist and the rolling of her eyes. "Decided to keep it since he had a good clientele already."

"So... uh, what do I call you, then?" Ms. Stabflank didn't seem like a good alternative.

"Mel's fine. Short for Melanie. ... did you want to get this piercing or did you come here to flirt with me?"

He just about fainted as he followed her into the back room. The lighting in here was a lot better, and the place looked relatively clean. Definitely not what he was expecting. She ran through a series of questions with him, which he replied to in the positive as he took a seat in the elevated chair. His fingers dug at the cushy armrest in anticipation, and tried not to look at the row of instruments just to his left. She must have sensed his anxiety, because her hand soon wrapped around his.

"You're gonna be alright, kid. Coupla seconds of pain, and you're done. Promise." Their eyes met in that second, and he felt like he could trust her. If she wanted to shank him with any of those sharp implements, she would have already.

"I'm r-ready." He shut his eyes and tilted his head back.

"Deep breath in, aaaaaaand out."

As he exhaled, a hot pain pierced through the skin of his nose, made him want to scream and jump out of the chair. But he knew that if he moved, not only would he probably butcher his face but Mel would also be pretty pissed at him. Tears started to well up in his eyes... and then everything went black.

He woke up woozy on his side, and the muffled sound of Mel's voice in his ears. A hand rested on his back and there was something cold and damp on his neck.

"Hey, kid." She sounded somewhat sympathetic as her blurry face came into view.

"What happened?" he slurred, his tongue feeling like a dry wad of sandpaper in his mouth.

"You blacked out for a second. I toldja to breathe."

A wave of heat washed over August, though he couldn't tell if it was another blush or from fainting. Mel helped him to sit upright and pressed a shotglass of what smelled like orange juice into his hands.

"Luckily, I got it in before you turned into a wet noodle."

August stared at himself in the mirror she held up, the straw to his lips. The bright blue hoop curled around his nostril, gleaming in the overhead light. She was right: it matched his eyes perfectly. The skin around it was slightly red, and it ached when he tried to wiggle his nose, testing to see how it felt.

"Thanks, Mel. Could I, uh, get my change?"

She gave him a cheeky look as she exchanged sixty bucks for the empty glass.

"You said I'd get forty..."

"Yeah, but you gave me a good show. First guy I got that ever fainted. Plus if you come back in a few years, you could buy me a drink." Mel winked and ruffled his hair before taking care of her tools.

"I'd like that," August mumbled under his breath, pocketed the rest of his money, and headed to the door. There was no reason to believe that she would still be here in three or four years, or that she would even still be interested in him. If she even was in the first place. But it didn't matter. This was the first anyone had shown him such kindness in a while, and the memory was going to stick with him every time he looked at his nose ring.


	5. After

"Fiona!"

Sasha's scream ripped through August's chest. The Vault Door was starting to close, and there was nothing any of them could do to stop the massive stone structure. Freshly healed, she took off at a sprint towards it. The nearest Catch-a-Ride was too far away, and the Runner she and Fiona had used to get inside the Traveler had been reduced to rubble and smoke.

He was unfamiliar with the concept of a sibling, sharing a life and one's possessions with another person, experiencing the same heartbreaks together, having someone to lean on during the bad times... He didn't know what that was like, but he could tell Fiona meant a lot to her sister from the panic in the latter's screams. He'd never heard her sound that way before, and it dug deep into something primal within him that made his stomach lurch.

"Sasha, wait!"

Vaughn soon followed, either concerned for her well-being or for his lanky friend also trapped inside. He'd never thought the little man would have amounted to much after Hyperion fell, but he'd definitely made a niche for himself in the ruins of the downed space station. So well, in fact, that the brawler's emotions bordered on jealousy. Success had come easy to Vaughn, in a place that was less than kind and for a man who'd had a desk job his entire life. He'd found some way to blossom, however, and August wondered what he would've had to give up to be blessed with such opportunities.

Lost in his thoughts, he was rooted in place, watching as the two ran after their friend and family. It was hopeless to think they could get there in time... yet they continued on. It made him question if he could have done more to save Vallory, if he'd dug in his heels more, made the effort to move, he could have pushed her out of the way in time. She'd still be alive, and-

He took off after them. They were throwing their lives away for something they couldn't stop. But they were trying anyway... and he was going to do the same. As much as he didn't want to admit it,

It was easier to catch up to Sasha - Vaughn was a fast bugger for being so short - and tackled her legs out from under her. She gasped, and they rolled across the dirt into an angry tangled pile.

"What the hell, August!?" Dirt stuck to her cheeks where the tears once were, and she walloped him right on the nose. It stung, the skin still tender from having his piercing ripped out, but he made a grab for her wrist before she could throw another punch.

"Sasha, you're being stupid."

"Get off of me!"

"Would you listen! You go in there, you're not coming back!"

"And how is that a bad thing?!" The tears ran fresh down her face as she struggled against his grip. She managed to free one knee and drove it into his thigh over and over again. He took each hit, wincing against the pain, and accepting that she would never be able to forgive him for this. "I'd be in there with Fiona! Instead of-... instead of..."

"Watching her leave?" He finished her sentence for her, and felt the fight die within her. Seeing her crumble before his eyes squeezed at his chest, because he knew he could never make things right again. Because he'd tackled her for his own selfish reasons. Because he didn't want to watch her leave either.

"What do you care?" she muttered between the sobs that shook her whole body. She wiped at her nose and eyes with the back of her sleeve, and turned to watch Vaughn's retreating form. August followed her gaze for no other reason than having no adequate response to her question. What _could_ he say, anyway? That he cared? That he wanted her to say? None of that would make up for the loss of her sister, and it was unlikely she'd believe him anyway. not after everything.

The Traveler was long gone, the empty space of the valley appearing quite strange without its presence. The once-accountant's tiny silhouette finally gave up and collapsed to his knees, his shoulders heaving with exertion. He'd be back eventually. He had his own camp of ex-Hyperion workers to take care of.

"We'll... find some way to get 'em back," he finally said after a long period of silence. He offered Sasha the handkerchief from his back pocket, which had gotten a little dirty from their tumble on the ground.

"You can't promise that," she sniffed, and wiped at her eyes again.

"No. But we can try. Brains over there and that Vault Hunter friend of yours, Athena? They gotta have connections and intel to find 'em." As much as he wanted to put his arms around her, he got the feeling the timing wasn't right. "If you can't take my word for it, trust them instead." August stood and dusted off his knees, then offered her a hand. Surprisingly, she took it, and pulled herself to her feet before handing him back his slightly damp handkerchief.

"And you think any of that will work?"

"Hey... no bad vibes this time." He shrugged as he shoved the crumpled fabric into his back pocket. It was a poor attempt at a joke, but it was enough to bring a half-hearted smile to her face.

"Thanks... August." Sasha rubbed at red-rimmed eyes, and headed in Vaughn's direction. Their mutual loss would help them to mourn together, would give the other the solace they needed so that they could refocus their efforts on finding Fiona and Rhys again.

And August would go home to his empty bar, bury his own mourning in a bottle of booze, and wait until they needed something from him. Because that was all he could ever be.

"Yeah, no problem."

An afterthought.


	6. Proposal

"Letter for ya, boss. Looks fancy." Tector slipped a fancy envelope onto his desk and was heading back downstairs by the time August managed to tear himself away from his work. Mail was rare, but something other than bills was even more rare, and he turned the purple envelope over and over in his hand, trying to figure out who it was from. He slipped his knife under the flap and carefully sliced it open, taking care not to ruin what was inside. A thick piece of cardstock slipped out and fell into his lap, complete with curlycued letters and a small doodle of a cake in gold ink.

"You're invited to the wedding of Athena and Janey Springs. Please RSVP..."

He wrinkled his nose in confusion that they'd decided to invite him at all, and him of all people. It was even more surprising to assume that he would even go. He had very little to do with these people, and just because they'd fought together once didn't mean that they were suddenly friends. They'd gone their separate ways, and he liked it that way.

He tossed the card into the bin and went back to his numbers. Bills and mercs had to be paid, he had to restock the bar, he needed extra cash in emergencies... The important stuff. Yet he found his gaze drifting back to the card in his trash. It was difficult to ignore, with how nice it looked. And someone had taken the time to think of him for once. Would a wedding really be so bad? It would be a change of pace from his usual humdrum life...

He sighed and retrieved it from the bin. It was going to be in a week. Not much time to get a decent suit, possibly a gift, but it was likely the two lovebirds weren't going to be staying on the planet for much longer. He'd heard inklings of their desire to go somewhere else, perhaps follow the Vault Hunters in their search for treasure, the other Vaults, maybe even find Fiona and Rhys. It was likely Sasha would go with them too, if she had her way. But August... as hard as he'd been working to get off this planet, could he really just pack up and leave? Would he look like a coward dropping everything he already had, just to go on some adventure? Or was this the chance he'd been looking for from the very beginning, and that to _not_ go would make him a coward?

He ran his hands through his mussed hair, and started searching the EchoNET for a place with decent suits. Better to jump in headfirst than to be left with regrets later on.

The light grey suit showed up on his doorstep a few days later, wrapped up in a box with a light blue tie to match. The entire thing looked quite stuffy, definitely not something he would wear on a regular basis, but he wanted to at least look presentable. Trying the suit on was a different story; it felt well-made and great against his skin. Not stuff at all. Definitely a lot better than the t-shirt and vest combo he'd been sporting for years. He was starting to understand why so many rich people in office jobs chose such attire. It made him feel important. Distinguished. Like he could finally command some respect...

Then he found himself staring at the other parts of himself in the mirror. Should he keep the nose ring in? Should he do something differently with his hair? Were his boots suitable enough or was he going to have splurge more for better shoes? And would they even get here in time?

His look narrowed in disgust as he shook the threads of doubt from his mind. He didn't need to start changing himself for one single event. He looked fine the way he was, and it was likely no one was going to pay him any attention anyway. he just had to look nice enough for a few hours, sit in a chair, eat some cake, and then get out of there.

He took care in folding the suit back up into the box and placing it at the back of his closet. It was an expensive purchase, and he didn't need it getting ruined before the day. Now he just had to figure out what kind of gift to get.

* * *

The day came faster than he realized, and it was a mad dash to get The Purple Skag taken care of while he was gone. Tector wasn't responsible enough to run it, but he'd learned his lesson last time and promised to refuse entry to every single person that came by. The wedding was taking place all the way out in Hayter's Folly, and that was almost an entire day's drive. Thankfully, he heard that the oasis was nice and cool, which meant he could slip out of the jacket of this monkey suit and feel more like himself

He tucked the chilled bottle of his most expensive alcohol - his choice of gift - into a cooler behind his seat, and sped off in his Runner towards the nearest Fast Travel. Spending more money on a gift would leave him with nothing for the rest of the month, and he still had other expenses to pay. And he'd put some thought into it too. A small sacrifice from his supplies to make the wedding couple happy.

Abandoning the Runner, he adjusted his tie once more before stepping through the Fast Travel... only to find himself surrounded by more sand. Confusion wrapped his brain until he caught sight of a hand waving him over. At the crest of the dune was Sasha wearing something strapless in a light colour that played well with her tan skin. He should've known better and prepared himself for this; in all the excitement and rushing around, he hadn't even considered that she would be here too. And the sight of her made his heart jump around his chest like a rabid skag on cocaine.

"Don't you look nice," she said as he got to the top of the hill, giving him the up and down. Her makeup was light, but there was a glimmer to it that brought out her cheekbones in a way he hadn't noticed before. Her dress was a light blue-green that matched her eyes and brought her whole look together. August licked at his dry lips before answering.

"Thanks. You too. Everyone else already inside?" He peered past her to look into the mouth of the cave, which gave him seomething else to focus on. A wonderfully cool breeze was coming from within, and August was eager to get inside before his shoes starting filling up with sand.

"Just about everyone except the bride. But you know how that is," she said with a shrug.

"I... don't, actually." _Awkward_.

"First wedding?"

"Yep."

"Then you'll probably need one of these." Sasha extracted a folded pair of tissues from her purse and tucked them into the breast pocket of his jacket. August huffed in reply and rolled his eyes. What was there to really cry about?

"Let's just get on with it." He elbowed her in the side in passing, ignoring the tremble that had settled into his hands. It was just a glorified fancy party; he'd been to plenty of those, so having the jitters made no sense. He was going to have to find a stiff drink soon to help his nerves.

He heard her fall in step behind him as they descended towards the cave. Quiet chattering echoed off the walls, and they were soon surrounded by the other guests for the evening. A few faces August recognized - Vaughn was there, actually clothed, and the two Vault Hunters who'd worked with his mother were there too - and others he didn't. Which would have been a problem had he come here to socialize. They didn't know him either, and he had no problems keeping things that way.

Watching Sasha flit about the crowd like a natural did make him feel a little self-conscious, enough that he edged himself away from the middle of the crowd to settle at the edges, near a table where a few appetizers were. They smelled great, yet he didn't feel the least bit hungry. Strange, considering he'd missed breakfast just in getting here.

Another table had a small placard with "Gifts" written on it, and he placed his bottle on it, between a rather parge pair of boxes wrapped in silver paper. There were smaller gifts there too, enough to look like a decent haul but not too many that it would be a struggle for the brides to take home. And across fromt he crowds were several rows of white plastic chairs, a few of them adorned with flowers for the closest friends and family of the brides. August decided that he was neither of those things.

"I'm... just gonna save us a seat, if that's alright," he whispered as he touched Sasha's elbow to get her attention.

Sasha whispered a thanks to him before continuing her conversation, leaving August to sit alone at the end of one of the rows. It would be easy enough to make an exit if he needed to, and was sure no one wanted the aisle seat anyway. At the very end, he spotted the blonde woman he'd seen running around with Athena, dressed up in a white tux with her hair swept back and adorned with a few flowers. She was talking with another man in a suit, and she looked nervous as hell. What for, he didn't know. Weren't weddings supposed to be happy events?

Soon enough, the chattering quieted down and everyone started to take their seats. Sasha took the one he'd been saving for her, and adjusted her dress around her. He straightened in his chair and fixed his gaze forward; he was trying his hardest not to make things awkward by staring at her in that dress. She smelled nice, too.

He cleared his throat and adjusted his tie once more.

The music soon started, something soft and lilting, and he watched as those around him turned. There were a few soft gasps, and he followed suit to find Athena standing there. She was done up in a dress that was the most expensive thing August had ever laid eyes on in his entire life, and had a sparkle to it that shimmered with every step that she took. She, too, looked uncomfortable with all of this, and her knuckled were white with the grip she had on her bouquet. When her eyes met Janey's, however, August saw all of that worry melt away, saw as Athena's steps became more confident as she headed towards the person she intended to spend the rest of her life with.

As she made her way up the aisle, August sat back in his seat, and caught sight of Sasha pressing a tissue to her eyes. The two she'd given him remained in his pocket, untouched. Unneeded. He thought to offer his hand to her for support, but even that offer felt wrong. They weren't like that anymore, and he coulnd't be sure if they ever would be again.

So he worried his hands against the knees of his slacks, having nothing else to occupy them with as the procession continued. The music stopped once Athena got to her destination, and Janey lifted the thin veil from her face. Something she said made Athena chuckle and elbow her in the side before they both turned to face the minister.

"We're gathered here today..." he started, but soon the words became muffled, like someone had shoved cotton into August's ears. His stomach started doing flip-flops, and he ran both hot and cold at the same time. Was the room spinning or was that just him? He should've gotten that drink like he wanted, that would stop everything from spinning. He couldn't throw up here, not in front of everyone and not on a day like this. Why was he even feeling like this, anyway?

That's when he felt a cool hand wrapped around his heated one, and it grounded him in the now. It chased away the feeling of sick and losing control, and he chanced a look at Sasha's face. Her tears had made her makeup a little smudgy, but she still had a smile on her face.

"You feeling okay?" she mouthed towards him, concern knotting her eyebrows together a little. He didn't know how to answer. Yes would steal her attention away from the wedding; a lie would... well, she would see through it in a heartbeat. So he only shook his head a little and closed his eyes to stop the scenery from spinning.

 _Maybe this could have been us eventually. Maybe if things hadn't gotten so fucked up, if I hadn't..._

It was a fool's dream, with the foundations of their "relationship" having been built on a lie. He might have hoped for it, but they could have never ended up there, promising their lives to each other in front of people who cared. Not by a longshot. They'd been destined to head in opposite directions from the start and that left him feeling...

There was a cheer and a few sniffles from the crowd, and he roused himself in time to see Athena dipped into a kiss. It _was_ beautiful, to say the least, and August found himself clapping along with those around him. He had, however, gotten to the end of his comfort level, and was desperate to leave once he got some cake in him.

The area just by the cave opening was a rush of people taking pictures, congratulating the brides, and ogling the tiered cake that had just been brought in. He'd lost Sasha to the crowd again, which was a good thing. Her concern had been comforting, but he wasn't interested in discussing his state of mind with her. He was only here as a courtesy, he reminded himself, and it was better to pretend as if everything was okay than to make a scene.

Getting a slice of cake definitely helped, and it was the best thing he'd tasted in a long time. A little too sweet, but it was a rare treat he could allow himself for the occasion. And when he was done, he slipped through the crowd towards the entrance where he intended to head back to the Fast Travel and speed off home.  
"What? Leaving already?" An arm hooked around his and halted him in his tracks. Sasha peered up at him with slightly renewed makeup on her face. "Without a dance?"

"A dance." Shit, there was dancing at these things? Weddings weren't so great after all.

"Yes. _A dance_. I know you know how. You used to-"

"Yeah, I used to. But now I don't," he snapped back. He knew what she was talking about, those nights they'd spent in the empty bar with the tinny music coming in over the radio. When they'd talk about silly stuff that made their faces ache with smiles. When everything felt perfect.

"Look, this was a bad idea. If I'd known you were coming... I came for them, alright? Nothing else." Seeing her again, dressed like this, he wasn't sure he was convincing himself very well.

"... it's just a dance. It doesn't have to be... anything else. Just one. And then you can go if you want."

He'd always had a hard time saying no to her when no one else was around to see their more tender moments, and now was no different. His shoulders sagged with a sigh and he offered his hand, allowing her to lead the way to the small makeshift dancefloor that had been constructed over the water. Their steps echoed off the wood, and they chose a back corner for privacy, as well as making room for anyone else who was interested in joining in.

August's eyes looked at everything else but the woman in front of him, and he could feel her stare burning into his face. One look would drag his heart back into the past and leave him an empty husk in the now, unable to maintain the connection between it and his brain and stop him from saying something stupid. Or maybe he wanted to be stupid, like he used to be with her. When he could be himself without anyone around to judge him. Being stupid felt good when he had someone to share it with.

"... you ever think you'd be married some day?" His grip at her waist tightened, and he was finally able to look her in the face. Sasha was taken aback by the question but she showed no signs of wanting to escape.

"Not really. I mean, it was always going to be one job after the other, no chance of really settling down. Doesn't really sound like marriage material, you know?" She shrugged with a half-smirk as they continued their slow spin to the sounds of violins and piano.

"I call bullshit." He gave her shoulder a pinch for good measure.

"Why, cuz you... _oh_. Oh my god..."

"Maybe."

She was shocked into silence then. And into the next song as well, until several hours had passed and they were the only two left still standing. Their feet ached, but neither of them wanted to stop. Because neither of them wanted to face the ramifications of the dance ending and having to have "the conversation." Staying here, like this, just made things easier.

But even the brides were ready to call it quits, and everything had to be packed up at some point. And that left the two without anything to continue their distraction from the matter at hand. With the setup being dismantled, August and Sasha sat in the cool sands of the dune just outside, and watched as the crescent moon sat low and lazily in the eastern sky. The silence that hung over them was unbearable and welcoming at the same time. Neither of them wanted to raise the point or utter the first word, preferring the silence over the unborn discussion.

So August turned to something safer.

"... when are you leaving to go look for your sister?"

"... I'm not sure I even want to go. I'm not really big on the whole... adventuring front."

"You'd do fine, I think." Maybe she wasn't a full-fledged Vault Hunter, but she definitely knew how to hold her own.

"Pbth, you say that cuz you're biased."

"No, I say it cuz it's true."

"August..."

"You got a level head about you. You can see the bullshit from the truth, you wouldn't get duped by any assholes out there trying to steal the clothes off your back."

"That's... pretty nice of you to say. ... if I went, would you come with me?"

"What?"

"I said if I-"

"I heard you, I just don't understand." It felt like someone had flipped him upside down and everything was turned around the wrong way. Why would she want him of all people to go with her?

"I mean... it would be nice having someone watch my back. Just in case. And you're a decent shot."

"You didn't see me trying to hit your boyfriend on the hood of my car."

"Rhys isn't my boyfriend," she replied coldly and rubbed at her arms. August slipped off his jacket and placed it on her shoulders. "... is that what the problem is?"

" _No_ , I just... With everything..." He thought she'd want nothing to do with him ever again. Slowly, he was starting to feel like his assumption had been wrong. He sighed and gave up on trying to explain. "So're you proposing I be your backup?"

"... you could call it that, yeah."

"What about The Purple Skag?" It was his pride and joy, and he had no interest in just leaving it to anyone.

"August, you could run a bar anywhere. Are you accepting my offer or not?"

"I'll have to think about it."

But the more he did, the bigger his smile got and the warmer his chest grew. It wasn't a bad deal, giving up on the ventures his mother had left behind so he could start anew, travel the stars and see what the rest of the galaxy had to offer. And, just maybe, they could have a fresh start too.


	7. Bitterness

If there was one thing August hated, it was being lied to. What was even worse was lying to him by omission and keeping him out of the loop. Because not only did he have to play catch-up, but he also looked like an idiot to his "employees" in the process. And to have two experience Vault Hunters making him look foolish... He could feel his blood pressure rising as he stared at the one called the Slab King and his lanky sniper friend. He'd only known that they'd worked for his mother, but nothing else beyond that.

"When were you going to tell me about this?" He unfolded a handful of photos and tossed them onto the table between them. The large muscular one peered at them for a second, looked to the sniper, then shrugged his shoulders. The other, calling himself Mordecai, pushed the photos back towards August with a shake of his head.

"What we do's our business, kid. We don't gotta explain anything to you. We're not friends." The small scrappy bird on his shoulder screeched in response, as if it were strengthening his point.

"I think you kinda do." August slid them back again; they showed the two Vault Hunters breaking into one of the facilities out in the Blight and walking away with a healthy haul of eridium. From a facility August himself had worked so hard to get his hands on. WIth Hyperion gone, all of their facilities were up for grabs, and he'd had to go through a healthy number of bandits and psychos to ensure that they stayed away. Just because these two were older and more experienced with things August could hardly fathom didn't mean they could go wherever the fuck they wanted.

"That's mine. And you took from me." He tapped hard on the photos before sweeping them off the table. He didn't need them to make his point any further.

"We needed that eridium. For-"

Mordecai held up his hand with a light scowl.

"We don't gotta tell him nothin', Brick." The stick of a man folded his thin arms over his chest, his weight shifted to one leg. "If you ain't got nothin' else to ask us, we're just gonna go."

 _Bang!_

The rusted metal door vibrated from the fresh hole that had been shot into it. August armed was raised, and smoke leaked out of the barrel of his gun. A stupid move, by all accounts, but his last nerve had been frayed to only a few threads. He'd been trying to work his way back up the ladder to gain some respect from those who once worked for Vallory, and though it had proven to be a struggle, he was doign a decent job of it. To have these two stepping all over what he'd earned, just because of who they were, was rubbing August the wrong way.

"You sit down or the next shot I take goes through your head."

Mordecai snarled at that, but he was at a disadvantage with the gun already raised. August noticed a light shift, saw him resting his hand against Brick's, and saw the Slab King's fists start to unfurl. He'd been ready to punch in the blonde man's head for even thinking of treating them like this. The last thing they needed was to face another bandit war.

"I'm gonna let that slide out of respect for your mom," Mordecai sneered. He and Brick both sat, fuming. August remained standing and placed the gun on the table, the barrel aimed at the tinner of the two.

"So are you gonna answer my question?"

"... we got a friend that needs it," Mordecai finally answered after some hesitation. "Gets sick without it. That's all you need to know."

August stared at him in disbelief; eridium did nothing but make people sick, so it was difficult to believe any part of his story.

"That's nice and all, but how about I call bullshit, you give me back the bricks, and I don't fill you two full of lead." He rested his hand on his gun and stared them down. The large one was slowly turning red in the face.

"Better idea. You stop bein' an idiot and my friend here doesn't rearrange your office with your face." The hunter smirked back. The bruiser punched his palm for emphasis. August could definitely see them carrying through with their threat, but backing down would make him look like a pushover.

"You wanna play like that, fine. Tector."

It didn't take much to get the large Hodunk by the door. He rarely ventured very far, remaining in earshot for whenever his boss needed him.

"Yeah, August?"

"Interested in showing our friends what happens when they don't play by our rules?"

The large man chuckled as he adjusted the straps of his overalls. Brick was on him before he barely made it through the doorway, and the hunter was in the middle of reteiving his gun from his holster when August had him in his sights first. This was going to be painful and bloody, and _definitely_ not the path of common sense. But August's bitterness to being pushed around for too long had bruised his ego and made him spiteful towards those who didn't respect him. For too long, he'd been the kid people pushed around when they couldn't talk back to Vallory. And with her gone, he was going to have to stand up for himself now. Even if that meant getting filled with a few bullet holes in the process.

"How about you try another answer?"


	8. Icy Patch

Icy winds blew as August drove through Tundra Express. He'd lived amongst the dry and sand so long that he'd forgotten there were other parts of Pandora that weren't exactly warm. Unprepared for the drop in temperature, he turned the heat of the Technical on full blast and rolled up his window. It was going to get stuffy in here, but at least he wouldn't freeze to death.

He'd come this way to meet the leader of one of the bandit camps, one who could supply him with Buzzards and make his business more ludicrous. Talking over the Echo could only do so much for such a delicate negotiation, and he wasn't familiar with these parts enough to bring his own crew with him. He probably would have lost a good number of them in the process, with the swarms of varkid in the area. Alone, he could maneuver the vehicle enough to stay out of their nests and get to his destination much faster.

The blaring of a train horn startled him, and found the long delivery vehicle just to his right. Most of the yellow paint was already stripped and gone, and now serviced the local bandit population with whatever they decided to trade, guns mostly. Watching its speed spiked his adrenaline, and his foot slammed on the gas to try and keep up with it. And when that didn't work, he kicked in the boosters as well. It forced more air into the intake, pinned back his blonde hair as he raced alongside the train. It was thrilling to drive without a care in the world, and he shut his eyes with the pure bliss that washed over him. He was definitely going to have to take more trips out here.

His moment was soon ruined when he forgot where he was and hit a patch of ice. He felt the tyres twist and spin beneath him, and the steering wheel wobbled out of his control. The passing cars of the train filled the Technical's windshield and conitnued to grow closer until August pulled a hard left. There, just where the road ended, was a spot where the tracks no longer touched the ground. Fingers crossed, he steered right towards it, unaware if the Technical would even fit, but it was better than becoming paste on the front of the train.

Metal twisted and bent around him, and everything jerked to a stop quite suddenly. August's head smashed into the steering with such force that he was knocked out instantly, the Technical's horn blaring like a screaming goose. With the engines dead, the hot air slowly began to cool until his slow breaths became small clouds of fog. Slowly, the sun moved through the sky as the hours passed. The horn, too, soon died, and the Technical was surrounded in silence. He hadn't left behind any news as to where he was going, and the local populations didn't care about some smashed up Technical. The bandits he was supposed to meet assumed he was a no-show, and went back to their regular business.

It was only the varkids that seemed to give a care, their thin stick legs tapping against the window and metal of the vehicle. They probed the surfaces with their needle-like mouths, found nothing, and settled in crevices of the undercarriage where it was still warm. They eventually grew tired of that too and tried to work their way through to the interior. To no avail. They were much too small to pierce steel with their probosces.

Their complaints soon drew the attention of a badass varkid, and it nudged its horned head against the vehicle in its investigation. The large metal "creature" was unmoving, but it was still in the varkid's territory and it sought to be rid of it. It fluttered its wings and backed away, its feet kicking up dirt and ice until it felt it had gone enough. It gave a chittering screech as it bulldozed its way towards it and slammed into the flatbed. The roof of the Technical barely gave, stuck fast against the underside of the train tracks. The varkid only shook its head and reared back to try again.

The sound of metal scraping against metal eventually roused August from his state of unconsciousness, and he looked around in confusion at his situation. The Technical lurched forward an inch, and he peered back to see the spiny back of the varkid backing up again.

"Shit!" He shook the dizziness from his mind and reached for his pistol... only it was no longer there. It had slipped out in the accident, and he didn't have much time to look for it. Another inch or so, and the tyres would no longer be on the ground. The weight of the Technical's engine would pull it the rest of the way, and it was going to smash hood-first into the ground, if the top-heavy thing didn't flip during the fall. He kept an eye on the varkid as he fiddled with the door handle and found that it was stuck fast. He wouldn't have time to roll down the window either and crawl out that way, not at the rate the varkid was backing up. His boot bounced dully off the window and left scuff marks behind.

That's when he noticed the varkid booking it at the vehicle, it head hunkered down.

A crack of gunfire splintered the air, and August watched the varkid go slack in its approach. Legs scrambled beneath it in its confusion to remain upright, but the bullet that had pierced the soft part of its neck and burrowed into its skull left it with very little brain matter to work with. Its legs eventually gave out under it and it skidded to a half a few feet from the back of the Technical.

August breathed a sigh of relief and went to work on getting the window down. Just because the varkid was dead didn't mean he was out of the woods yet. Staying in here, the Technical would give into gravity eventually and take him with it. He couldn't move too fast either, or that would hasten his journey towards the ground.

His teeth chattered as he tested each hand hold, literally crawling his way out of the window at such a slow pace that it felt like he wasn't moving at all. It was a painstaking process, but he knew he had to be careful. Recklessness wasn't going to earn him a longer life. A groan and another scrape of metal halted him in his tracks, and he shut his eyes to wait for the inevitable. It had moved another inch or so, and he was starting to feel like he was never going to get out of this.

"Oy!"

August gasped and opened his eyes to find a stickly shape draped in red. He breathed a sigh of relief to see the Vault Hunter, even if they weren't on good speaking terms.

"Take it you shot that varkid earlier?" He was distracting himself from his current predicament. He would've asked what the sniper was doing out here in the first place, but he got the feeling it wasn't any of his business.

"You're welcome." Mordecai undid a length of rope and tied a rock to the end of it to give it some momentum. He threw the end to August, which landed and curled around his wrist. "Wanna tell me how you got in this mess?"

"Not particularly!" His ego and pride still remained as he slowly worked the rope through his belt loops and tied a knot at the front. He wrapped the rope several times around his arm and started to make his way to safety. "Shouldn't your big friend be here to help with this?"

"You think I can't hold you, pendejo?" As a joke, Mordecai dropped his end of the rope on the ground. Which August didn't fnd at all funny.

"Stop fucking around!" He was only giving the Truxican more fuel to keep acting like an asshat. He sighed and ignored his temper. "Okay, fine, I'm sorry, can you please just grab the rope!"

The sniper complied and wrapped it around his waist several times, the rope straining in his gloved hands as he watched the blonde finally crawl into the flatbed.

Another slip. The back tyres were barely on the ground anymore.

"If I jump, will you catch me?" August asked nervously. The flatbed was almost at a ninety-degree angle, leaving him higher up than he was comfortable jumping from.

"Don't tell me you're afraid of heights."

"I-"

The last groan of the falling Technical dragged on forever in those final seconds, and left August with no choice but to jump. Mordecai's distraught expression drew closer and closer until they crashed and crumpled together on the ground. It hurt like hell, but at least he was alive. The Truxican was the first to gain his bearings and shoved August off with a groan. The blonde rolled onto his side, feeling like he'd falling into a pile of sticks.

"I didn't say yes, asshole..."

"... fuck... you..."


	9. Drive

The drink was bitter, but it was hot and that's all that was important at the moment. Being stuck in that Technical for so long had given August the first onset of hypothermia, and the sniper was doing his best to keep the symptoms at bay. Even if it entailed giving him boiled stale booze. The bartender's nose wrinkled as he took another sip, and almost gagged at what tasted like gasoline at the back of his throat.

"This is the best shit you got?"

"It's the _only_ shit I got." Mordecai gave the small white box another kick. The small space heater had been running fine a few seconds ago, and then suddenly died. It looked worse than it actually worked, and August was sure it had to do with Mordecai's mistreatment of it.

August drew the edges of the blankets closer together adn chugged the rest of the alcohol. Better to get it over with than to labour on it in disgust. The heat soon swelled from his belly and made things a little more pleasant, but his toes and fingers still ached like hell. At least they hadn't started turning black.

Finally, the heater flared to life, and Mordecai adjusted it in front of the blonde. August basked in the heat as it chased his shivers away, and muttered a shaky thank you to the older man. It was a marvel that he didn't even look cold, with what he was wearing. August wondered if that was due to acclimation or the old man being insane.

"You came out here to save my ass?" He shoved his still-aching fingers into his armpits to warm them up. The fire in his belly was starting to die, and he _almost_ wished he could have some more of that awful brew.

"I was out here running a job, heard a horn and came to check it out. Thought I could pilfer some idiot got stuck in a Technical after I took the varkids out, only to find out it was you." Mordecai undid the rope from his hip and tossed it into a random drawer. Leaning back against the rusted post of the tower, he removed a flask from his hip and took a swig.

"Hey!" So much for the hot swill being the only thing he could offer.

"It's tea. I ain't sharin'."

August soured and pulled the blankets over the top of his head to warm his ears up. This wasn't a bad place to hide out, despite how long it took to climb up here. The sniper had done well for himself in scoping the place out, and gave him a good vantage point for all the goings-on of the Tundra without having to move. August only wished he'd gotten his hands on this place first.

"... I was supposed to be having a meeting down there." He peered over the top edge of the low wall and pointed towards the bandit camp. Volunteering as to why he was here was better than letting the sniper bug him about it. "I was going to work out a deal to get some Buzzards working for me, moving some products around." And if everything had gone well, he would've been back home already, sorting out the stock of his bar and getting ready for his warm bed. Not sitting out here in the ice and snow, being babysit by an old has-been ex-drunk.

"You would've been dead before you left," Mordecai replied nonchalantly, his eye pressed to the scope of his rifle. The news didn't sit well with August at all, and he tried to stand up.

"What do you mean?"

"The head honcho in charge ain't interested in making friends with no one, not even someone who can pay as good as you. He would've pretended to make that deal, shot you in the back for good measure, and strung you up outside the wall. See?" Mordecai offered his rifle, and August peered through the scope. He found the camp, as well as the dead and frozen bodies that lined the outside walls. So the old man wasn't full of shit all the time...

"So much for that plan..." August handed it back with a huff and hunched over beneath his pile of blankets. He had no reason to doubt Mordecai's words; he seemed experienced with the area, so he must be familiar with the bandits as well. A shame. This was going to be one of August's better deals, the one that would make the rest of his business for the rest of his life. Now, it was all dashed to the rocks. On the plus side, he still had his life.

"What now?" He discovered his nose was dripping and pressed the corner of a blanket to it.

"Not up to me. I ain't your ma. You pick," he replied with an air of disinterest. He only wanted to make sure the kid didn't end up dead.

Whatever he wanted, huh? So far, that hadn't turned out well for him, and he was plumb out of ideas. He didn't have the energy to go back to work either. He could go back home and crawl into bed, try and forget that this day ever happened.

Or he could grab the day by the balls and run away with it.

"Karaoke."

Mordecai turned his head. August couldn't see his eyes but he could safely assume that the sniper was giving him a dirty look.

"All that cold froze your brains too?"

"Why do you give a shit?" he smirked to himself. "I didn't say you were invited."

That was true, and a light colour bloomed across Mordecai's face. He huffed and went back to surveying the scenery with his scope.

"Fine. Go."

"Don't be like that. Look, I'll buy you a few drinks as gratitude for saving my life. Won't tell a single soul you fell off the wagon for just one night."

He saw Mordecai lick his lips, possibly yearning for another taste of booze. He'd heard about how bad of an alcoholic he used to be, and tempting him like that would garner him a lecture or two, possibly a shoe thrown at his head. But he was desirous of company, and knew of no one else to ask on such short notice.

" _One_ drink. And I ain't singin' no song with you."

"Fair. I'll even slip you a bar of the good stuff for your _friend_."

Mordecai's lip curled; he hated when August taunted him like that, especially when it came to Lilith's vices. But he wasn't going to turn away a source for her fix if it stopped her from puking her guts out.

Once he was steady on his feet, they made the journey to the nearest Fast Travel, the blonde nothing more than a pile of walking blankets, and were instantly greeted to warmer climates. It was a shock to his system, and August almost threw up with the change in temperature. He quickly shed them to the ground and followed behind the sniper as he led the way to the nearest bar. The place he found was seedy enough that no one would give a crap who they were; if they were lucky, they'd recognize Mordecai and choose to leave them be. The perks of traveling with a known Vault Hunter.

The music was loud enough too, and he could feel the bass vibrating within his ribs. It made him feel alive again, like the beginnings of this day had just been a bad dream. August plopped onto the nearest stool and ordered two shots of whiskey.

"Go sing your song. Then we're out of here." Mordecai spun the small glass between gloved fingers, gave it a sniff, and threw it back. He looked jaded at having to drink in secret, but August didn't care. It wasn't his problem to deal with. He threw his back as well, and made his way through the crowded dance floor to the stage. The live band that was already up there were confused at this sudden intruder, and the pierced, mohawked man held the mic stand in such a way that Mordecai was sure he was going to beat August with it.

"You guys don't mind, do you?"

"Yes we f-"

"Great. You guys know 'Get Lucky'?" ( watch?v=NyU5CShHmXw)

The band members looked at each other in question for a long time before they nodded slowly.

Mordecai watched in horror slash mild amusement at the blonde on stage, the drums and bass guitar filling the room with noise. Maybe that hot swill he'd been given had gone to his brain and rotted it out - the drink had been quite old, after all - and the sniper questioned whether he should rescue August from himself before he completely embarrassed himself. But he missed the moment, frozen to his chair for too long, when he started singing. Or growling. Mordecai had trouble telling which it was, but he had to admit the kid was talented.

If only he knew how wrong he was. August had no experience being on stage or even singing. Sasha had tried to get him on stage when the bar was empty and belt out a few notes, but he always politely declined, explaining that he was tone deaf. Something of a lie, since he didn't really know if he could sing or not, but there were still boundaries to his vulnerability.

Here and now, he was in front of a room of people who didn't know who he was and couldn't care less. What did he have to lose by cutting loose and surrendering himself to the music? The worst that could happen was that they'd throw bottles at his face. So nothing he hadn't already experienced before. With his eyes closed, he wouldn't have to gauge their reactions either.

The entire room was stunned to silence until a few started dancing along, thrashing their hair and limbs around in a hypnotic flare for the dramatic that left Mordecai wondering if they were dancing or having a fight. August could hear their cheers too, couldn't let them distract him as he recalled the words. The heat was growing in here with the growing movements of the crowd until it was practically sweltering. A wonderful change from the earlier cold that had settled into his bones.

When the song was done and he opened his eyes, the people at his feet were hollering and whistling, their hands thrown into the air in celebration of his performance. It would have been enough to bring a smile to his face... if he hadn't fainted right into the cymbals and drums.


	10. Morning

August's eyes burned with searing pain as he dared to open them. The sunlight was too bright and making his head hurt, and his tongue felt like a dead weight at the back of his throat. Funny. He didn't remember partying last night. The room spun with the effects of a hungover as he sat up, and he promptly fell back to the bed again in defeat. It was too early for any of this, and he didn't know how any of this came to be.

The first thing he did discover was that the air smelled different. Instead of the hint of alcohol, throw up and disinfectant, there was motor oil and sand. The air was definitely warmer too, and there was a dryness to it that made him want to sneeze. The second thing he discovered was that the bed he lay on was a lot less comfortable than his own, and had twisted a knot into his back that made it even more difficult to get comfortable, no matter which way he turned. That forced him to his feet, his lungs swung over the side of the bed... only to discover that he was no longer wearing any shoes. Bleary-eyed, he peered around the room and found... holes. Holes in rended metal that let in too much sun and wind, and there were panels on every wall, some with readouts he didn't understand, others completely dead.

"Hey, glad to see you back in the land of the living." A familiar bearded face poked around a corner and August groaned in response as he dug his knuckles into his eyes.

"Vaughn, what the hell am I doing here?" He was pretty sure he wasn't out with him last night. They weren't really on speaking terms, outside of helping him and Sasha find their respective friend and sister. There was something about him that just... rubbed August the wrong way. Maybe it was the fact that he was a little too nice, but still capable of putting enough fear into those that worked for him that they never questioned his orders.

"Great question. Not a clue, but your friend left that note tied to your belt."

"Friend? Whuh...?" Sure enough, there was a scrap of napkin rolled up and shoved into his belt for safekeeping. August unfurled it and read the thin scrawling of disjointed letters.

"Thanks for the laugh, but I wasn't gonna leave your drunk ass there to get robbed. You still owe me one. -M"

A sick burp brought up the flavour of gasoline, and all the memories came washing back. The crashed car, getting rescued, that awful drink... and then the bar. He'd asked for karaoke, and he'd jumped on stage... The more that came flooding back, the more intense his headache grew. He fell back to the bed with an annoyed groan and draped his arm across his eyes to shield out more of the sun. He'd made a fool of himself in his venture to find himself, and now he was probably the laughing stock of the bar. Scratch another name off the list of places he couldn't go to anymore.

"... soooo, are you just going to sit around here all day or are you going to help out?"

He'd forgotten Vaughn was still there.

"Go away, Vaughn," he growled between gritted teeth. The "bandit" leader's voice was starting to get on his nerves.

"This isn't a hotel, August. You stay, you help. Or else get out." He gave the bed a kick to make his point. August jolted upright and grabbed him by the scruff of his face.

"Listen, little man. I don't take orders from you. I don't take orders from _anyone_. So go back to playing pretend with your merry bunch of Hyperion stooges and leave me the hell alone." He tried to shove him away, but Vaughn had a vicious grip on his wrist.

"I don't know what bug's crawled up your shorts, but I'm not going to take your shit. At least we're trying to make do with what we have around here. What are you doing? Moping about your ex-girlfriend? Or is it your mom? Either way, you're doing a whole lot of nothing around here, so don't tell me-"

The punch to his jaw cut off the rest of his words. August was seething and his knuckles ached. He wasn't going to let anyone talk to him like that ever again, even if there was an ounce of truth. His anger wouldn't let him see it, however. Someone else had reduced everything he'd done down to one word: nothing. And he was sick of having to prove himself to everyone just to get some recognition.

"Don't you ever call me again. Don't text me, don't ask me to help you out with getting supplies. We're done." With that, he grabbed his boots and jacket, and calmly stormed towards the exit. He heard Vaughn spit, and there was no resulting rattle. Good; he still had all his teeth.

The scalding sand beneath his feet only stoked his temper further as he made his way to the nearest Catch-A-Ride. There was no way he was going to take Vaughn's help by borrowing one of his, even if it meant burning his feet in the process. The walk gave him time to think to, on whether it was a good idea cutting his ties with the supposed bandit leader. Vaughn and Sasha had been working on a plethora of things to find the traveling Vault somehow; August had been along for the ride, listening to their theories, offering assistance in whatever way he could. A paltry thank you had been all he got, and then he'd been promptly ignored. Did they really even need him there? Or was he just some tool to help them meet their goal, discarded into another pile of people they didn't need anymore.

He couldn't help but think back on that failed deal. If Mordecai had been wrong, August would have been set for life. Nothing he did ever seemed to turn out right.

"Hey y'all! You ready to Catch-A-Ride?"

"Good fucking morning to you too, Scooter." August dialed through the vehicle options, stopped, and decided to keep on walking.


End file.
